


Seasons

by jentaro



Series: wedding planner au [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, and like still not just saying they're into each other, it's mostly just these losers being gay and pining, there is a small gender essay in here, there is also a lil bit of angst but not like a lot, these bitches GAY gay, transmasc nb jaskier, wedding planner eskel and wedding singer jaskier team up to be cute, you don't HAVE to read the first part to get this one but it's better if u do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26200930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jentaro/pseuds/jentaro
Summary: After a wedding gone wrong through no fault of their own, wedding planner Eskel and wedding singer Jaskier have a heart to heart under the stars. Unfortunately, Eskel is gay and it is terminal.
Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: wedding planner au [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902769
Comments: 49
Kudos: 78





	Seasons

**Author's Note:**

> gotta warn yall first about some angst and about some discussion of trans feelings. everybody who is trans experiences being trans differently, and i am a nonbinary person writing nonbinary jaskier. it's not like a deeply personal and super serious discussion, but for my fellow trans friends who need the warning to prepare themselves, this is your warning!
> 
> anyway, back at it again with the modern au wedding planner stuff. i have the whole thing worked out but i don't have the attention span to do like One Planned Fic so it'll all get posted in this series when i write snippets. this is more fun if you've read the first part, but it's not like required reading or anything. they're just both gay as hell and need to get with the program :/ just like kiss already you fools
> 
> if there's any weird errors this is only just barely edited, i be getting lazy 😤

Abysmal. Horrific. Disastrous. 

These are the words that Eskel is choosing to use to describe how this evening has gone so far. Though, if he is honest, it is no fault of his own since the bride’s family had threatened the groom’s side since the initial consultation he'd been brought into. The bride’s mother was at the throat of the groom’s mother from day one, and from there it had spiraled completely out of control. Of course, he could see the red flags from miles away, but, a paycheck is a paycheck, and as long as he made the money off them, Eskel would grin and bear it. At least for entertainment’s sake, and the ensuing shitshow of the ceremony had absolutely been worth it all.

The couple had chosen one of the gorgeous state parks in the area that catered well to upscale events, and this wedding is no different. Eskel had done nearly everything in his power to get everything together in less than two months, everything except hiring a hitman to take out the bride’s mother. Kathy, lord help her (as she is being dragged away in handcuffs screaming her head off), had stabbed the groom with a salad fork.

The _only_ saving grace for the evening is that Jaskier is at his side, and the sound of his laughter has been gracing Eskel’s ears for the better part of a half an hour as this mess unfolds. The cops being called, paramedics to attend to the groom _and_ his grandmother who went into shock, and everything between. Eskel had managed to sneak back from the bar with a half-full bottle of champagne at some point, both of them at the bottom of their second glasses before Eskel pours the rest of what's left of the bottle into Jaskier’s champagne flute.

“Hey, you wanna get out of here and go for a walk?” 

_This_ is one mess that Eskel has no intention of cleaning up, and another look at the feuding between the bride’s family and the groom’s family going this late into the night tells him this will not be resolved anytime soon even if he decided to intervene. His stuff has already been packed into his car for the night anyway, which he'd done sometime during dinner (before the Incident). So he has no problem saying yes to the only person in the building with a shred of sanity.

“All your stuff is already packed away?” They had driven in together in Eskel’s car, but they had different things to do at different points of the night, hence asking.

“Duh, I could see this coming from a mile away. I had everything packed up the second I stopped playing,” Jaskier says, downing the rest of his glass and putting it on the table they're sat at in the corner of the closed in gazebo, far away from the action. They've mooched as much free dinner food as they can while watching the festivities, and it's just past getting old. Jaskier grabs Eskel by the elbow and he lets himself be hefted up into standing. 

Jaskier freezes though as they start walking toward the side exit, looking toward the guest favor table, and Eskel can't help grinning at the astonished look on his face. “I forgot to tell you…”

“Is that a _milk and cookie bar_?” Jaskier asks it in hushed astonishment, letting him go and making his way over while Eskel helplessly follows.. The groom’s family paid for this fun little surprise, and really, they had been the only ones who were reasonable through the whole process. While the bride hadn't been _too_ terrible in terms of pushing for what she wanted out of her own wedding, her mother had really made this one of the worst clients he had dealt with in a _while_. But, the milk and cookie bar being here now means Eskel witnesses Jaskier’s face light up, and really? It makes the past couple of months of hell worth it a million times over.

It is _very_ sudden that his friend starts jogging as he rushes out, “Oh no no no _no no_ wait a second sweetheart, _no_.”

Eskel stops a few feet away from the table to watch as Jaskier gently pulls a carafe of strawberry milk out of a small child’s hands. A small child missing any form of supervision entirely, though it's not hard to see why with the chaos still blooming as angry voices raise higher. Regardless, he stands back and lets Jaskier handle this, absolutely sure he would have no idea how to react in this situation of a fussy little girl who looks like she's about to cry.

Jaskier stoops himself closer to her level as he looks back at Eskel and shrugs, looking around the room for anyone to claim this child, but all of the adults are drunk and _messy_. “Did your mum say you can have some?”

“She's over there,” the kid says, pointing in the direction of a group of women sitting with the bride trying to calm her down. At least the kid doesn't look upset, and he watches Jaskier soften as he turns back to the table holding the treats. 

He can see Jaskier’s head turning over how to best manage this, and if Eskel is honest with himself, his heart is beating hard in his chest while he tries not to melt on the spot. Jaskier’s voice is still the same gentle tone as he points at each carafe when he lists the flavors and asks, “Do you want the strawberry milk, the chocolate milk, or the regular milk?”

“That one,” she says, pointing at the strawberry milk she had originally grabbed. The girl is adorable, probably no more than five years old and clearly _very_ bored of everything that’s not immediately getting at those cookies. Eskel is sure that nobody wants to clean up a child covered in milk, so the intervention of Jaskier is for the best. He watches Jaskier pick the strawberry milk back up, pour her a paper cup of it, and has a conversation with her about which cookies are the best ones. She says thank you, and walks off with her bounty.

There is no double in Eskel’s mind that he has a dumb look on his face when Jaskier turns back to him and winks. “And for you? Do you want the strawberry milk, the chocolate milk, or the regular milk?” He points at the carafes the same way he did for the kid and uses the same voice, grinning when Eskel laughs.

“You know? I think she had the right idea, I’ll take some strawberry.” The last thing he wants on his breath is milk tonight, but Jaskier’s already poured himself some chocolate milk, and then they’re walking away from the table with two cookies each. Himself, lemon with white chocolate chips and an oatmeal one, and Jaskier has the double chocolate and the chocolate chip. 

“We can split them in half, that way we each get a little bit of all four kinds,” Jaskier says as they finally step outside of the closed gazebo and into the evening air. The sun is low on the horizon, still there in the sky, but it is close enough to sunset that he knows they will be walking in the dark at some point. The state park is quite big in the first place, and it has many trails in the woods to go off on, though he’s glad that they stick on the road. He doesn’t need to trip in the dark in the middle of the forest while he’s still working off being tipsy (and while holding milk), nor does he need Jaskier to do the same.

“Oh, so we’re splitting them in half now? You don’t even like lemon.”

“Like, _conceptually_ , as a flavor that’s added to things it has no business being in, _Eskel_. There’s a _difference_ ,” Jaskier says, indignant.

Holding his paper cup with his teeth for a moment, Eskel breaks the lemon cookie in half, holding it over toward Jaskier who stops so he can bite gently on the piece and take it. Besides how the butterflies in his stomach start moshing over the self satisfied look Jaskier gives him, Eskel keeps his teeth sunk into the rim of the paper cup as he asks around it, “Happy?”

“Hmm,” Jaskier says, breaking off the other half that’s not in his mouth so he can chew. “You like this? It _sucks_. The flavor is too artificial,” and Jaskier makes an exaggerated spitting sound toward his feet. “Eat the rest of it, I don’t want it.”

Eskel takes his cup back into his hand and opens his mouth in time for Jaskier to pop the quarter-piece into his mouth. The flavor is _just_ right, considering Eskel recommended the bakery to the groom _specifically_ for how good the cookies are. “It tastes _fine_ , Jask. Did you want a piece of my other one?” He asks even though he knows the answer is no, Jaskier doesn’t like—

“No. I don’t like oatmeal either.” Jaskier pauses his thoughts and admits, “…Okay, that wasn’t my best-thought out plan, huh.” Still, Eskel can see him working on breaking the chocolate chip one in half, and then biting off half of it. When he finishes chewing, he says, “Open up, hubby,” as if Eskel isn’t going to expire on the _spot_. Again, with soft pet name that Eskel has no right feeling sentimental over. 

But he is not going to deny Jaskier’s wishes, and he obeys, opening his mouth again for his friend to push the bitten off chocolate chip cookie quarter onto his tongue. Neither of them mention that the pad of Jaskier’s index finger manages to drag on Eskel’s lip as he pulls away. He shoves his cup back up to his mouth to take a drink of what turns out to be _much_ too sweet strawberry milk, anything to distract himself while his face heats up and he tries not to say something stupid. As if his whole existence knowing Jaskier hasn’t been filled to the brim with Eskel saying something stupid to his friend. 

By the time they are finished with their cookies and the milk has been drunk, Eskel is about to suggest they turn around and head back so they can head out, but Jaskier has different plans. Eskel is abruptly being tugged along by his wrist, toward a little empty playground just off the road and half-hidden by trees. Jaskier only stops so he can combine their cups and toss them into the trash can by the fence, “I haven’t been to a playground in a while… I think the last time was like ten years ago?”

Eskel can’t help the smile on his face as he watches Jaskier walking around on the soft gravel of the playground, the sun reflecting off of the shiny pattern on his dark purple suit. He always shows up to his side-gig wearing something that people would call gaudy, but Eskel is constantly charmed. Every single time, now being no different. “Yeah?” A request for elaboration in the same breath that he loses when Jaskier grabs both of his hands and walks them over to the large, rickety wooden planks that make up some seesaws. In all their chipped-paint glory, the first has bird shit on it, the second has broken glass under it, and the third is fine, and Jaskier waits until they both sit level with each other to answer.

“I think I was twentysomething? I was still in college, but anyway my roommate and I went and smoked weed. Someone called the cops on us, and that's my story,” Jaskier says, using his legs to push off the ground at the precise moment Eskel sits hard down on the plank, leaving him hanging in the air and flailing to grab the small hand hold while half-glaring down at him. 

Eskel grins up at him as if to ask ‘what did you expect?’, and Jaskier’s answer is to beam brightly at him with the last bit of the day’s sun at his back, nearly making him perish on the spot for how his heart leaps into his throat. So, he does the only thing he can, using his legs to jump back up, only very quickly to have gravity work against him, nearly sending Jaskier flying off when they end up back in the same position, this time with _much_ more force behind it. 

“Hey!” 

“You're aware I’m _much_ heavier than you, right Jask? Getting on a seesaw with me was never gonna end well.”

Jaskier sticks his tongue out at him, getting off once Eskel stood to make them level again, and instead walks over to the swing set. Only one swing out of three remained. The first was completely gone with half a chain hanging, the second was cut in half completely and hanging with the chains tied together, and again the third on the end is connected and good to use. Jaskier takes a seat and asks, “Push me?”

The big doe eyes come out, and Eskel is absolutely helpless to it, coming up behind him so he can grab the chains and steady his side to side swinging first. Jaskier’s back is warm when Eskel puts his palms to it, giving him a strong push while he gets his legs beneath him. Another push to get him higher, stepping back to let him swing a bit before he looks at him for another, making Eskel roll his eyes, but he is more than happy to oblige requests for pushes. 

The only sound for a while is the squeak of the chains untilJaskier asks, “What about you?”

“What _about_ me?”

“Ever did something stupid on a playground?”

“When I was still in school, maybe I was eighteen?” Eskel thinks about the timeline for a second, pushing Jaskier again harder to make him go higher. His friend—his incredibly lovely friend that Eskel wants to stop so he can kiss him—squeaks as he's sent higher than he expected, making the swing set lurch while Eskel holds onto the bar on the side to steady the ancient thing. “Yeah, eighteen. Anyway Lambert was sixteen, found a lighter on the sidewalk while we were walking home from school after dark one day.”

“Oh that _can’t_ be good.”

“It wasn't,” Eskel says with a chuckle, pushing Jaskier a bit more lightly this time. “So the two of us were at a park, only one street light on the road, so Lambert decided to light a fire. At the end of the slide. And then he went _down_ the slide, ended up burning his school uniform shirt and got his ass _whooped_ by Vesemir. Coincidentally, that's the exact moment he learned about Lambert’s tattoo _and_ the fake ID he used to get it. But anyway, the old man made him wear that burnt shirt for the rest of the school year.”

Jaskier’s laughter is a category of music in its own, his favorite genre. It's light and gorgeous and makes Eskel feel like he's walking on air just listening to it. When his delightful giggling dies down, Jaskier jumps off the swing and lands on his feet, doing a deep bow when Eskel claps. “Thank you, my darling hubby, thank you. Now sit down so I can push you.”

Eskel raises his eyebrow at him, but does as he's told when Jaskier gestures at the swing again impatiently. “Alright, alright, I’m sitting.”

“Good.” Jaskier comes up behind him and puts his hands on Eskel’s shoulders, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to seize up completely when all he does is rest his chin over one of his own hands. “I keep thinking about the dream wedding, you know.”

And isn't _that_ a bombshell of a statement to have dropped on him. Eskel’s heart stutters in his chest for one long missing beat, nearly making him dizzy from how much he wants it to be a reality with the person standing so close behind him. “You do?”

“It’s hard not to, I mean, we could announce we’re getting hitched _tomorrow_ , and my old man will _have_ to open his bank account for every single expense without question. I want to see the stupid look on his fucking face when I tell him I want to get married in Italy,” Jaskier says, pulling away so he can push Eskel.

...Which doesn't move him far at all, still frozen where he's sitting on the swing. Ever since they'd gotten drunk off of Lambert’s bootleg jet fuel and Eskel had gone so far as to get the dream wedding binder out, it's been hard to imagine anyone other than Jaskier across the aisle from him. The only problem being they aren't _dating_ , no matter how many times Jaskier thinks it funny to pepper in the ‘hubby’ endearment. That doesn't mean it's _real_ , even if Eskel desperately wishes it were.

Jaskier tries again to push him, the gravel beneath his feet shifting loudly from the force; Eskel can't help smiling though, even in his melancholy for not wanting to wreck what they have here with his own heavy heart beating through the vastness of his feelings and fears. Putting his legs under himself, he starts helping if only so Jaskier doesn't chide him for being a spoilsport. 

“Theeeeere we go,” Jaskier says in triumph when Eskel starts swinging back and forth, but there is little effort in it. “A-anyway I know it's _your_ wedding, but it's um… it's really nice. I feel bad for butting in and making corrections to it like I had any right to.”

“All of your suggestions were perfect though,” Eskel says before he can catch up with himself to say _anything_ else. But he's feeling soft tonight as the sun sets and the person he would drop everything and anything for is pushing him on a swing set while they’re wearing fancy clothing after a disastrous wedding they'd both worked. “From what you've told me of your father, I’d also love to see his stupid fuckin’ face if you rolled up with me and said we’re getting married.”

It feels like the most natural thing in the world to say, even if it makes his chest constrict tightly.

Abruptly, Jaskier has grabbed the chains over where Eskel’s hands are holding them, pulling him to a complete stop. Then his breath leaves him completely when he feels Jaskier’s arms wrap around his waist from behind. There's a moment when Eskel feels boneless before he sucks in a stuttered breath that he hopes Jaskier didn't hear. 

“I’m glad you took a chance on me, Eskel,” Jaskier says, tightening his arms around him. “Like, when that shithead dipped on that wedding and Triss told you about me, and then you convinced your client to hire me. I’m glad I met you every single day.”

Taking a deep breath is hard when he feels like he is one more sappy thought from exploding into a thousand pieces, but he manages, and he leans back into Jaskier’s embrace, putting one hand over where his friend’s are resting. “Me too.” Dropping his head back onto Jaskier’s shoulder, he turns his head to the side to see that Jaskier’s face is close enough to his own to feel his breath on his cheek. They share a look, Jaskier’s eyelids drooped to match his own half-open eyes; for a moment he stops breathing, wondering if it would be fine to move his head just that touch more. 

Close enough to kiss; they both hesitate and the moment passes. 

Jaskier squeezes him again and lets go, stepping back from the swing and leaving Eskel dangling there trying to catch his breath. He stays seated for another long moment, watching Jaskier now start climbing the domed jungle gym across the way. When his footing slips, that's when Eskel gets up to follow after him. 

“Don't break an ankle Jask, really don't feel like walking back alone,” Eskel teases, even as Jaskier takes his place sitting atop the bars and huffs at him.

“You gonna come join me or do I have to actually break an ankle?”

“ _Please_ don't break an ankle.” Even with the sun past the tree line now and the night just starting to set in, he can see Jaskier puff up his cheeks in indignation at him; when Eskel starts climbing the steel frame after him, his heel slips on one of the bars and he _almost_ loses his grip.

“ _Don't break an ankle Jask, really don't feel like walking back alone_ ,” Jaskier mocks him in a deeper voice, pushing on his shoulder when Eskel finally takes a seat next to him. “I can't carry you back the whole way, you’d be completely out of luck.”

“Listen,” Eske starts, sitting as best as he can even with the bar digging into his ass uncomfortably. “Neither of us are breaking our ankles, _but_ , if you do, I’ll carry you back.”

“Aw, make me feel like a fuckin’ dick, I’d at least _try_ to carry you back. I would only give up _halfway_ before I stole your keys and picked you up in your car. Give me _some_ credit,” Jaskier says in another huff, knocking knees with him. 

Eskel laughs at that, head thrown back with the suddenness of it. Jaskier is so fucking endearing at all times that he can't _stand_ it. It’s unfair in every single way to have to sit here in the company of his own yearning with the fading sky around them bringing on the first dredges of twilight, but he wouldn't trade it for anything. Taking a deep, half-bitter breath to get himself under control, he can hear Jaskier’s breathless little laugh next to him before his heart stops again for the hundredth time tonight when his hand is grabbed; the hot shame of pining trickles through his chest and into his lungs, down to his bones where it feels like it has taken root to never leave. And yet still, Jaskier’s lightly callused hands both holding his own larger one feels like the only thing keeping him grounded.

The first thing out of his mouth is the last thing he should ever bring up, but the thought enters his head and he asks, “Have you ever thought about having kids?”

Jaskier stills, and Eskel immediately contemplates the merits of letting his legs drop so he can slip through the bars of the jungle gym dome and directly into hell. The only thing that keeps him from doing just that is Jaskier’s fingers on both hands lacing through Eskel’s hesitantly. He can hear the deep breath—can feel it against his side—that his friend takes before he says, “I never used to think about it, you know?” 

“No?” 

It’s all Eskel can think about, sitting here with Jaskier. Having watched him placate small children before at weddings, Eskel isn't a stranger to how Jaskier treats kids, so the milk incident tonight isn't the only basis he has. He has seen Jaskier soothe plenty of bored children who are overloaded and don't know how to communicate what they need when parents aren’t pay attention to them. Watching Jaskier tonight when he'd been a little tipsy and already feeling sentimental though, the thought of having children with Jaskier _specifically_ is haunting him.

And he tries not to let Jaskier’s answer sink to a negative place, Eskel wouldn’t ever even dream of saying his own feelings take precedence here. This is about much more than the concept of children.

“No, I really didn’t. I know I haven't really talked a lot about this, but…” Jaskier takes a deep breath again. “I mean, I know you like _know_ , I don't make it a secret or anything, but I-I—” He chokes up this time, perhaps trying to decide if what he has to say would be better off unsaid, and Eskel realizes immediately that this is something he wants to know. He _wants_ Jaskier to trust him with this, with _everything_.

Removing his hand from Jaskier’s, he instead moves his arm to place it around his friends lower back, fingers feeling equal parts awkward and _right_ where they rest just above his waist. “Hey, you can tell me, I wouldn't have asked if I didn't wanna know the answer, Jaskier.” His own voice feels a little too rough for the words he’s saying, but Jaskier relaxes against him, leaning against him and exhaling shakily.

“God, I’m not even _fucking_ embarrassed, or anything. Not about the gender shit, like, I know you know I’ve got a weird relationship with it, and god I already feel fucking fake enough about it sometimes. The nonbinary thing, I mean, nobody fuckin’ _gets_ it. Either some sorry excuse for a neanderthal comes up and tries to tell me I’m a woman, or people assume that being masc makes me a man. But I also never hated myself for who I am, never hated my own skin, so people try to tell me what trans boxes I fit into and won't accept that I don't want a fuckin box in the first place. Eskel, I am so beyond fucking _boxes_ ,” Jaskier starts at a rant, wringing the legs of his pants; Eskel moves his other hand over to grab Jaskier’s hand, lacing their fingers together again the wrong way. “I am so _sick_ to death of people forcing expectations of transness on me.”

It’s something he doesn't understand, they both know this, then again it’s never been something Eskel has had to think about. He has never had to think about his own gender, the terms he was given are convenient, and there had never been a reason to question it. Even if this is not something he can understand, he _can_ do everything in his power to make sure Jaskier knows he is loved. From the depths of his heart, Eskel knows he _loves_ Jaskier, and he is terrified of ever doing or saying anything to push him away. Even with that in mind, he wants Jaskier to know he's _listening_. “Only you get to decide what's right for you, no matter what anyone else says or feels. Your decisions and gender are your own, and you don't owe anyone else shit.”

“That’s what I’m _saying_ ,” Jaskier says, raising his voice into something a little more angry. “Do you know why I went on T? Because I wanted more body hair, and a deeper voice, and I wanted to distance myself from being female in every damn way I could. Calling myself a man never felt right, but I kept plastering myself to being a man because I thought I’d never be taken seriously if I didn't, like I only had …permission to be one or the other.” Jaskier takes a deep breath before his voice turns deliberate and determined, “Do you know how long it took to realize I didn't have to be either? When I realized that I could throw the whole gender suitcase out? That it wasn't me choosing a third, different gender, that I was saying ‘no’ to the _whole_ goddamn thing? Other people can do what they want, but in my house gender is a presentation and I’ve failed the whole semester.”

Eskel laughs at that, quietly and what he hopes is respectfully. “I think you're doing a great job?” 

“I’m doing an _incredible_ job. If my gender were a presentation it would be if I gave an in-depth lecture on early medieval bard culture and _epic poetry_ , but instead of being in a master’s music and literature history lecture hall at Oxenfurt, I’m in the middle of Warped Tour and I took the mic from Blink 182, but like in their mid-’90s early days. Ideally, nobody knows what the fuck is going on, but they're playing Dammit over me, and I’m screaming my thesis about how fucking cool bard costumes were in increasing volume, and there's _so_ much feedback from the mic, because I’m running around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to avoid security trying to drag me off stage, and the mic keeps pointing toward speakers.”

Jaskier takes a deep breath, and Eskel _needs_ the break for how he’s laughing at this _ridiculous_ tale Jaskier is spinning; when he goes on, Eskel only laughs _harder_. “But they're slipping on strategically placed banana peels, and then I slip on one, and the crowd goes fucking wild. They collectively grade me, and I win the whole fucking Warped Tour. Can you even win that? I don't think so, but I do it. Because it’s _my_ gender power fantasy, and I get to pick the description.” Jaskier finishes spitefully, now more calm then he'd been when he started.

 _God_ , though, Eskel is so, so in love, and he is laughing, leaning his forehead onto Jaskier’s shoulder. “You're _ridiculous_.”

“I _know_ , but when I tell people that I don't subscribe to gender at all, that the whole point of me feeling comfortable calling myself transmasc nonbinary is because I am more willing to be perceived as male, and using male pronouns keeps it easier for who I want to be and what I look like. But, _but_ , I don't feel gender. I’m not agender, I don't _have_ gender, I don't have an absence of it, I think the whole system is goddamn fake. Gender is a social construct that we don't have to have, we can all just say no to it and stop placing meanings on genitals and colors. Frankly, it’s fucking rude that anyone is trying to tell me that clothes and make up and _anything_ inanimate has a gender.”

Eskel stops laughing into the next bit, and yeah, he still doesn't understand, but he knows he can do his best to support him. Falling into an easy silence, Eskel follows his instinct on this and turns his body to pull Jaskier into an embrace. At least, he hopes it's comforting, he hopes it's not unwanted or too forward; when Jaskier relaxes against him, Eskel feels _winded_. Breathing against Jaskier’s shoulder, his arms both come to rest around his friend. His friend that feels so enormously, so _limitlessly_. 

“I stopped taking T because I lost my insurance a while back when I had to leave a better job. I can’t afford it on my day job, not even with this one. But I dunno, I don't mind right now? _I_ think my hairy tits look _great_ , and like yeah it fucking sucks that I get a period again, but even that's just a thing that happens that I’ve made peace with. I like myself,” Jaskier says, pressing himself into Eskel’s side a little more. “I think I want my own kids someday if I find the right person to have them with.”

Like this, Eskel can feel Jaskier’s heart pounding—can practically hear it with his ear where it's pressed. “For what it's worth, you're perfect as you are.” The words feel heavy coming off his tongue, and the admission of his own thoughts is all he can think of for reassurance. “And you are no less yourself for what you decide to do with your body, even if you want kids.”

“Hm,” Jaskier hums thoughtfully.

They sit like that for a while in silence after, Eskel feeling like he can sit here forever with his arms around Jaskier, if only he didn't feel strained from sitting weird on the top of the jungle gym. His ass is starting to get sore when he pulls back, but Jaskier stays leaning against him. The sun has set by now almost fully, only the last bit of light blue left as a ring around the horizon. The night is setting in, insects chirping and buzzing around them while everything gets darker.

“What about you?”

The sudden question from Jaskier makes Eskel look at him, unsure of the context. “What _about_ me?”

“Do you ever think about having kids?”

Inhaling the soft cool air of late summer’s last warm night, Eskel has his face pointed to the sky. He can't bear to look at Jaskier right now, not when he _wants_. “Only if the right person wanted them with me too.” 

It's the truth, and even without knowing what exactly Jaskier means, he knows that if he said no, Eskel wouldn't love him any less. But he said _yes_ , and Eskel yearns deeply for a reality where he can have everything. He wants his dream wedding, he wants Jaskier across the aisle from him, and now his fantasies of having a family don't seem so farfetched. Not when he feels Jaskier’s hands on his face, the gentle press of lips against Eskel’s right cheek making his heart leap into his throat and stick there permanently. 

“Can I call in the world’s biggest favor with you? Like, astronomically huge.”

“Yeah?” The word is choked out, but Jaskier must know Eskel wouldn't ever say _no_ , because it feels like a gut punch when Jaskier continues.

“So, my grandmother, the one that made sure the whole fund is set up for me… It’s her fiftieth wedding anniversary with my grandfather coming up next weekend. And I might have told my traitor bitch of a sister six months ago I’m dating someone to get her off my back about me _not_ dating someone. She told my grandmother, and now if I don't show up with a boyfriend, I will _never_ hear the end of it,” Jaskier says, slumping down against Eskel and putting his arms around him to easier rest his head on Eskel’s shoulder.

This… is a cruel joke, Eskel thinks, though it’s not one that is Jaskier’s fault. It’s his own, and his pathetic pining trying to fool himself into believing in his own fantasies. Jaskier is his _friend_ , first and foremost, and he is affectionate to all of his friends, but he is making it hard to _not_ fall for him. That doesn’t mean Eskel has any right to feel like this is any more than helping bail a friend out, even if that means pretending to be his date for a few hours. “Everyone else said no?”

“Haven’t asked anyone else,” Jaskier says, shaking his head gently where it settles again on Eskel’s shoulder. “I don’t trust anyone else with this,” he pauses, and Eskel takes the opportunity to put his arm across Jaskier’s back again, pulling him selfishly closer while the admission of _trust_ does its best to undermine Eskel’s determination for neutrality. “The shit with my family is genuinely fucking upsetting, and I _hate_ that it’s upsetting. I don’t even care about the money I’m cut off from, couldn’t give _less_ of a shit about an inheritance, but every time I see my family it’s like they’re waiting for me to have _failed_ , o-or that I’ll never find anyone that accepts me—” Beside him, Jaskier takes a breath that trembles in the air between them, cutting off his heart wrenching train of thought. 

Who would Eskel be to say no?

Turning his head, Eskel presses his lips to the crown of Jaskier’s hair, taking a slow breath before he says, “I’ll go with you.” And he will show every last nosy person in Jaskier’s family how loved he is. “Are we gonna do anything shocking—maybe I’ll propose, give your father a heart attack?”

Jaskier sniffles, laughing a wet little sound out before he says, “I told myself I wasn’t gonna cry when I asked you, I’m gonna ruin your suit, God…”

“Don’t worry about it, just getting a head start on the dry cleaning,” Eskel says with a half-chuckle. “I’ll be your _dashing_ boyfriend who looks like he fought a bear and won.”

“My _lovely_ boyfriend who I met because of my burgeoning career that’s _just_ about to take off, and he’s the _only_ real bitch in this world.” Jaskier pulls back then, wiping at his eyes with both hands. “Okay, yeah, ’m sorry, I’m good. Thanks for not being mad, I’m sure you have better things to do though, so we can just like show up and then leave—”

Eskel cuts him off with a hush, rubbing Jaskier’s back in soft circles. “And miss out on meeting my sweetheart’s father and immediately pissing him off with my continued presence the whole party? I wouldn’t dream of it.” The endearment rolls of his tongue naturally, but his brain backtracks very distractingly to think about how he would propose to Jaskier. Part of him thinks the family party would be the occasion to do it for the _drama_ of it all, but the reality of it is that this isn’t what he’ll be doing. 

It’s nice to think about though, proposing in some grand romantic gesture that would encompass his feelings for Jaskier. Marrying him in the most expensive place in the world with no expense spared though spite’s insistence is nice, too. And it would be _incredible_ to stand across the aisle from him, to dance at their reception together. Starting a family—

The wind picks up and rustles through the trees, cooling Eskel of the hot humiliation that feels like it is threatening to shrivel his heart the longer he imagines that future. Better to keep that fantasy locked up, especially with Jaskier shivering under Eskel’s arm. Without hesitation, he takes his suit jacket off and drapes it over Jaskier’s shoulders, making Eskel’s new fake boyfriend make a surprised sound that spears an unbearable shock of fondness through his chest. “Hey, you wanna start walking back? Gonna get cold soon.”

“Yeah, we probably should, huh,” Jaskier answers, clutching the lapels of Eskel’s jacket closer when the breeze floats by again.

On the way down the structure, Eskel nearly does break his ankle after a hard land on his right heel. It definitely feels tender when he presses his fingers to it, both of them sitting on the bench under the single streetlamp in the small dirt parking lot of the playground. Jaskier pressing gentle fingers into his ankle makes _him_ feel tender.

They end up walking back to the pavilion in the dark with Eskel holding up his phone’s flashlight so they don’t end up tripping into any holes or on rocks they don’t see. Jaskier insists on slinging Eskel’s arm over his shoulders after he properly puts Eskel’s bigger jacket on over his own. Eskel _really_ can walk just fine, but Jaskier bats the last of his protests away by wrapping an arm around his lower back and resting his hand on his waist. 

Is he supposed to pretend he doesn’t want this? That his unbearable pining can only end in disaster if he were to follow his feelings? Eskel knows this isn’t just a favor, that it is much deeper than just a family gathering for Jaskier, and it’s a chance for him to do his best to make sure Jaskier’s family knows how loved he is. 

Jaskier supports him while Eskel walks a little slower than he knows he can manage, savoring this even while Jaskier teases him for being stubborn (and for ever daring to quote him saying he would give up halfway through). Against better judgement, he lets Jaskier drive once they get back to the car; nothing major happens besides one ill timed flooring of the brakes when a deer runs out on the road as they exit the park, but otherwise, Jaskier’s driving doesn’t get them killed. What he expects is for Jaskier to let Eskel drive himself home once they’re back at his apartment, what actually happens is that he gets bullied into staying the night.

“I’m not taking no for an answer,” Jaskier says as they step into his bedroom. It’s just as subtly messy as usual, this time with a load of laundry having been tossed on the bed to be folded later, presumably, that Jaskier is sitting on the bed tearing through. “Besides, we wanted to watch that one movie, and it’s not too late yet. Where the—” He cuts himself off with a huff of triumph, pulling a pair of Eskel’s sweatpants out of the pile to toss to him. “ _There_ we go. I swear, should just clear out a drawer for you since you keep leaving your clothes here.” The last part is muttered while he gets up off the bed.

“Huh, yeah, I guess I should stop leaving my shit here for you to deal with,” Eskel says, momentarily embarrassed because of the truth to how he keeps leaving overnight clothing here on accident.

“Oh, this isn’t a complaint, it’s a _threat_. Actually,” Jaskier pauses while he opens one of the bureau drawers he’s standing in front of, “I already kinda did it.” At that, Jaskier takes out what is easily recognizable as one of his favorite shirts and tosses it in Eskel’s general direction for him to catch. 

“Been going _nuts_ trying to find this back at mine,” he says, holding it in his hands and trying not to let a tidal wave of emotion knock him off balance at how having a semi-dedicated drawer makes him feel. If he were going to put a name to it, it would be ‘gay’. “Jask, you don’t have to give up your space for me, I’ll take my stuff home—”

“Eskel, it’s _fine_ , I don’t mind. Now, you change and go wait on the couch, I’m gonna shower,” Jaskier says as he grabs something to change into, slipping past him and closing the door to his room for Eskel’s privacy.

He is quick enough about getting changed, even if he nearly does die when he goes to put the sweatpants on and finds a pair of panties having sneaked in there during the wash. The feel of the material alone sends his traitorous thoughts down a different, _much_ more gay path that he isn’t sure he can recover from, but he manages not to be overpowered. Somehow, the domesticity of it all is what hits him the most, pushing his heart right back into his throat while he leaves the bedroom and finds his place on the couch.

He already has the Netflix menu up when Jaskier comes into the living room freshly showered, holding a lumped up kitchen towel in the crook of his arm and two mugs. Eskel takes the one offered to him, and it’s that _good_ tamarind juice from the market around the corner, watered down just like he likes it. Another thing that makes him feel at home, like maybe all of his pining isn’t so implausible after all. If anything, tonight has only proven that Jaskier wants him around. 

Jaskier props Eskel’s ankle in his lap the moment he sits down, banishing him to sit in the corner of the couch with his legs stretched out while his own legs go up on the coffee table. The cold touch of the towel makes him realize it’s wrapped around an ice pack, and that does make him grumble just a _little_ , “Jaskier, it’s _barely_ swollen.”

“Because of the ice, so you're _welcome_. Not letting my handsome boyfriend suffer,” Jaskier says, reaching over to grab the remote so he can press play on the movie.

“I called myself your _dashing_ boyfriend,” Eskel says around the emotion welling up in his throat. That emotion again being ‘gay’.

“And you’re _also_ handsome, I said what I said. Not sure how I feel demoting you from hubby to boyfriend though, maybe you _should_ propose to me, watch my father pass out for grief over his wallet, and we can have a wedding in an ancient Italian church while we get to flex on every single person who’s ever met us. And then my scheme to get on your health insurance will _finally_ have come to fruition.”

“The _long con_ ,” Eskel says with a snort, relaxing back into the couch while Jaskier’s fingers worry the elastic of the ankle on his sweatpants, pushing it up to give him more room. His ankle _is_ a little sore, so it feels good to let Jaskier just do what he wants, which includes him apparently playing with his leg hair on his calf. “Don’t have to have a million dollar wedding to run insurance scams, darling. I’d be just happy with a judge and a witness.”

“I mean, so would I, but that’s not the _point_. The point is we both get what we want. Like, you get the dream wedding, and I get the satisfaction of pissing my father off.”

“And the health insurance.”

“ _And_ the health insurance! But I would still do it even if I don’t get the insurance because we get divorced afterward. I just like the _drama_ of it,” Jaskier says with a soft laugh that is painfully endearing. “Should I just start calling you my ex-hubby then? Maybe we can go into business together and make that our shtick. I’m the weird ex-spouse that you hire to sing at your clients’ weddings, and you get to pull out photos of your own wedding to make bridezillas jealous.”

“Okay, maybe you have a point there,” Eskel says, chuckling and readjusting himself so he’s laying propped up against the couch pillows better. His feet stay in Jaskier’s lap, the ice pack slipping and then getting readjusted a moment later while he half pays attention to whatever is going on in the opening of this movie. “So quick to divorce me though, was I _that_ terrible to you?”

“Hey, I _never_ said you were terrible, I just know that being married to _me_ might be the worst decision anyone could make—oof, _hey_ ,” Jaskier makes a sound of surprise when Eskel moves his heel back to push at Jaskier’s stomach for the sheer insinuation. “ _Rude_.”

“It’s ‘til death do us part, sweetheart. You marry me, you’re stuck with me unless I end up fucking up and you want to leave, and I wouldn’t blame you in that scenario.” It’s a joke, of course it is, but he’s never been more serious about his feelings, as thoroughly indulged as they are right now.

Jaskier hums quiet in his chest before mumbling out, “Good.”

At the end of the night if anyone asked if he can remember the movie, Eskel wouldn’t be able to name a single character or thing that happened. Jaskier had nodded off at some point closer to the end, so when it’s over and the credits hit, Eskel doesn’t hesitate to pick him up and bring him to the bedroom, putting him on the bed out of the way of the laundry (which he puts back in the basket to be dealt with later). This time he selfishly lifts the duvet and climbs in alongside his favorite person, settling down for the night only after Jaskier wakes up enough to wrap himself around Eskel’s back and tell him he smells nice.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr @ [jennyloggins](https://jennyloggins.tumblr.com/) and on twitter at [slimejen](https://twitter.com/slimejen). feel free to come talk or say hi or yell at me or whatever!!!!!!!!!!!!!


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